


Contact List

by nekodiangelo



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:08:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekodiangelo/pseuds/nekodiangelo
Summary: Jason fucks up on patrol. He goes back to one of his safe houses to patch up, but it might be too much for him this time. He should call someone to help him, but who could he call? Who would come?Set during a rough, in-between period of Jason doing his own murder-y thing and rejoining the Batfam.(alternate title: "guess ill just die")





	Contact List

**Author's Note:**

> i was frustrated writing the next part of my catlad fic so i took out my anger the only way i know how and banged this out without even looking back at it so my dudes. its bad.

Jason couldn’t remember the last time he’s felt this tired. The bone soaking ache that weighed you down so much that lifting a pinky felt like lifting a ton. Or maybe it wasn’t tiredness that plagued him. Maybe it was just pain. And maybe he does remember the last time. Except last time he was trying to get out of a crappy building instead of in one that he called his “home.”

  
It’s a shame that the street and bat-bred paranoia made his entering his own home such a process. As it was, he was practically bleeding out in his fire escape while trying to disarm his own security system. It was slow work since one of his hands was preoccupied with keeping his guts and blood inside his body. He doesn’t know if the fire escape was included in his deposit, but he supposed he wasn’t going to get it back anyway.

  
Finally, all the defenses on window were disabled and he was able to carefully slid it open to squeeze himself through, wincing as his wounds were pulled. He more fell in his apartment than enter it. Jason groaned as he hit the floor hard, the window sliding shut firmly behind him. He tried to push himself up, but the blood on his hands made it too slippery and he fell again. This time, he didn’t bother trying to get back up. Boy, he’s never been happier that he didn’t bother to fix his shitty insulation. The hardwood floor was so nice and cool on his heated skin, he just sighed and pressed his cheek against wood, wincing a little. He had no one to blame but himself for this. Well, technically the guys beating him up were also to blame, but he was sloppy tonight. God, it’s a good thing he doesn’t work directly with Bruce anymore because he didn’t think he could stand seeing Bruce’s disappointed face again. He’s had enough of that to last this lifeline AND the last. He got distracted and that was enough for one of the thugs to somehow slip a knife between the clinks in his armor. It was nothing but sheer luck, but it was enough. The others took advantage of the hit and suddenly it seemed like every no name goon in Crime Alley was beating on him. It was only because of his experience and training that he managed to give them as good as they got and get away. But the damage was done. He doesn’t even know what the blade hit, not under the mess of bruises, too preoccupied with getting back to a safe house even though he really should have tried Leslie’s or something. But if he was the type to make smart decisions, he wouldn’t be Red Hood in the first place.

  
But passing out on the floor probably wasn’t helping. “Come on, Jason. Get up,” he muttered to himself. “One. Two. Three!” He braced his fist on the floor and pushed himself up. Biting back a cry of pain, he struggled to remain upright. He grit his teeth as he sat up on his knees. He tried to get up, he really did, but then he felt something warm gush from his torso. Swaying, he quickly pressed his hands on the wound to try to stem the bleeding. Things were getting fuzzy. Did he have a concussion? Blinking hard, Jason tried to clear his vision. When he began to pitch forward again, he threw his hands out to catch himself. It was beginning to get harder to feel his legs.

  
“Just take it slowly, Jason. Slowly…” It hurt, but he dragged himself towards the couch, inch by inch. Boy was he glad his floor was wood instead of carpet. It’ll be much easier to clean out later. The couch would be a little harder, but it’s seen blood before. It took a while, but he was able to collapse on the couch real comfortably. Or as comfortably as someone as banged up as he was could be. He pulled his legs up on the couch before lying down. It felt so good to put the pressure off his knees and legs. He sighed, still in pain, but feeling better than when he was on the floor. He was… tired. He so desperately wanted to just shut his eyes and sleep for a while, but if he did have a concussion, that could be dangerous or him.

  
He should call someone. Have them stay with him to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep and to help patch him up. The way he was now, he would never make it to the kitchen where he kept a well stocked first aid kit under the sink. He began to reach for the phone he kept on the coffee table in front of the couch, but hesitated.

  
Who… Who _could_ he call? Who would come? He ran through the very short list of people he knew in his mind. Alfred? That was the first person he could think of, and he didn’t doubt that Alf cared about him enough to come. But would he? His loyalties was to Bruce first. He may be fine with the Bats now, but it doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t play by Batman’s rules. There might be a flimsy truce between them, but it was so weak that he didn’t know whether or not that means they’d be willing to be alone with him in his territory. He sure as hell wouldn’t in theirs. He might need help and it was against Bat code to let even criminals die, but… well, he already died once, it’s just righting a wrong. None of the ones after him saw him as anything other than disgraced son who strayed too far from the nest and fell. He wasn’t anything to them. Dick? No, Dick never liked him, anyway. Probably was really disappointed when the guy who took his job and name came back to life. No skin off his back if the black sheep, wannabe Robin died again because he was an idiot. Barbara didn’t like him either for what he did he to Dick. Guess his reputation as the Bad Robin just continued to fuck him over. Go figure.

  
Of course, he could just call Bruce. He owed it to Jason to help him this time. And there was no bigger enforcer of his moral code than Batman himself. Jason looked at the clock that hung on the wall. He sighed. It was relatively early in the night. No doubt Batman was still on patrol. Would he even pick up if Jason called? But if he did, there was something about having to crawl back to Bruce for help that had him squirming. Even now as he was bleeding out on his ratty couch, his pride was stopping him from seeking help.

  
He let his arm drop heavily. Great. Now he was hurt _and_ depressed. Nice job. And he was cold. When did he get this cold? He hadn’t even realized that the pressure on his torso had lessen, no longer having the strength to press down on his wound anymore.

  
Leslie! Maybe she could make a house call for him. It would be hard for her to get in, and he always hated when she made house calls when he was Robin since they were taking her away from the only free clinic in Crime Alley, but there was literally no one else he could call. Groping blindly towards the table, Jason finally grabbed his phone. He brought it close to his face, ignoring the shaking of his hand. He passed by the others’ name until he reached Leslie’s. His finger hovered over the call button, and he didn’t know if he managed to actually press it before his vision swirled. He tried to suck in a breath, but instead began coughing. Blood splattered on his lips.

  
Everything _hurt_. The phone slipped out of his grasp and he half-heartedly fumbled for it. When it dropped on the floor, he didn’t even try to pick it up. Jason blinked back tears, but they still fell, cutting through the grime and blood on his face. He whimpered and leaned his head further back against the armrest. He couldn’t ignore the black edge in his vision any more. He was so tired. And sleepy.

  
If he could just… close his eyes… just for a little bit. He could just patch up when he woke up…

…

  
Dick swing through the night, occasionally firing off a new line for his grappling gun to continue his steady pace across Gotham. He landed on the rooftop and pressed a finger to his comm. “Hey, O? I see the building. You sure this is it?”

  
“It’s definitely one of his safe houses. I’ve got the others checking up on the rest, but of course I’m sure. You doubting me, wonder boy?” Babs said teasingly in his ear.

  
He grinned. “Wrong sidekick, unfortunately. But could you imagine?” he asked, sighing dreamily.

  
“Focus, Nightwing, “she chastised but he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re there to check up on Jay, remember?”

  
For all his fooling around, he _was_ focused on the task seeing how the task was checking up on someone from his family. Apparently, Red Hood had not been seen around in about two weeks. It wasn’t really anything to be too alarmed about; it wasn't the first time Jason’s decided to go ghost for a couple weeks without telling anyone. Say what you want about the guy, but he was a free spirit and there really wasn't anything any of them could do about it. Still, the last known sighting of Red Hood placed him at an interrupted gang meet-up. Those guys turned up later pretty beat up but alive, which was certainly saying something about Red Hood’s recent self control. If those guys ended up looking like that, Dick was worried that Jason walked away with some injuries too, but was too stubborn to get stitched up properly. He had to make sure Jason wasn’t hiding away, licking his wounds by himself. He may not have been the best big brother when Jason was Robin, but he’s had more practice now, so it was on him to check up on the guy, especially since it seemed Jason was making an effort to rejoin the family. If he was trying, Dick owed it to him to try too. Even if it meant dealing with his snark and bad attitude.

  
He grappled over to the other building, neatly landing on the fire escape outside Jason’s window. Normally, he would be a little more careful about being seen, but he suspected that Jason either had also rented the apartments next to him, the whole floor, or the entire building so no one would see him coming and going. Most likely a result from being completely extra and a pretty successful former crime lord. Dick was about to get to work at disabling the security system he knew Jason had for his safe house when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Bending down, he peered closer at a stain on the floor of the fire escape. Reaching out with a hand, Dick scratched at the stain and frowned when the faint scent of copper waft towards him. Was it just strange rust or was it something else, he couldn’t tell since whatever it was has long since dried. He would have to test it to see, but whatever it was, he had a bad feeling about it. Turning back to the window, that feeling worsen when he realized the security system was already off. It could have been just a mistake, but Jason was way too careful for that. They all were, really, but Jason was to perhaps the one who took to Bruce’s paranoia and methodical tendencies the best- which was saying something.

  
Heart thumping, Dick practically threw the window open, and his heart jumped to his throat at the sight of the smeared, dried blood puddle on the floor. Then the smell hit him. He jerked back and covered his nose with his hand, gagging. His eyes watered, but he slide into the room, shivering slightly from the frigid temperature of apartment.

  
He staggered over to the couch where the trail of blood seemed to end at. Something in him screamed at him to turn back, to leave because whatever is on that couch is going to be too much for him. Swallowing, he slowly made his way around. His hands shook so much that he had to curl them tightly into fists. When he finally saw what was there, Dick’s knees buckled underneath him.

  
His little brother lied on there, one arm trailing on the floor and the other still resting on his stomach. Jason’s skin was a horribly shade of greenish-gray under a mess of deep purple and black bruises and scabbed over cuts. His domino mask was still on, but the skin around it was thin and taut. The only color on his face besides the bruises was a splatter of red-brown on his lips and chin. Maggots and flies littered his body, crawling around any orifice available for them.

  
Dick turned to the side and emptied his stomach contents onto the floor. Wiping his mouth, he tried to turn back to Jason, but found that he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look at his brother’s dead body. His brother who died twice… both times alone, just out of their reach. But he didn’t need to this time. He could have called any of them for help. He had most of their contacts and comm links in case of emergencies. Hell, he could of gone straight to Cave and they may have been able to help him. So why…

  
Steeling himself, he looked around. On the floor, next to Jason’s arm, was a cell phone, its battery fallen out after it hit the ground. Dick snatched both of them up and quickly replaced the back. He turned it on and searched through the phone, looking for any sign that Jason tried to contact _any_ of them. No text messages, but a quick check of the calls showed a call to Dr. Leslie on the same night as that gang meet up Red Hood broke up. He glanced at the call time, and frowned when he saw the 0:00 next to it. Either no one picked up or the call barely got to ringing before the call ended, apparently not by choice if the popped battery is anything to go by. It was good to know that at least Jason did at least try to contact someone, but by then it was too late. Then there was a fact that he had knowingly had to skip through all of their names on his contact list to get to Leslie in the first place.

  
Sighing, Dick slowly got up. He looked one last time down at the couch and moved back out the fire escape, unable to stand both the smell and sight of Jason’s body. Closing the window behind him, he took in a large, shuttering breath before sliding down into a sitting position. Tears welled up under his mask and he wanted to do nothing more than to scream, to find the nearest thug and take his frustration and anger out on them. But he had a job to do first. Last time, Dick was practically the last person to know about Jason’s death. This time, he was the first to know, so it was on him to spread the word.

  
He reactivated his comms. “Hey. Oracle.”

  
“Nightwing? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is there something wrong with Hood?”

  
“He’s gone, O,” Dick choked out. “Hood’s gone.”

  
A pause. “What do you mean ‘gone’? Nightwing, report.” He could hear her frantically clicking at her keyboard, trying to gather intel.

  
“He’s dead.” He clamped his mouth shut to stifle a sudden sob, but he knew Barbara still heard.

  
“H-How? I don’t…” She sounded breathless with disbelief.

  
“Looks like he didn’t walk away from that gang fight as unscathed as we thought,” he said with a watery laugh. “We were two weeks too late to do anything.“ Dick swallowed dryly, allowing his grief to be heard in his voice. “Tell the others… Red Hood’s fallen.” With that he switched her line off and closed his eyes, wanting some quiet for a bit. There was still one more thing to do before he could take Jason back to the Cave to properly mourn him. Opening his eyes, Dick prepared himself. Bruce may not have bothered telling him about Jason’s death the first time, but he was not going to make the same mistake. He took a deep breath, then another, and touched his comm one more time.

  
“B. Come in.”

**Author's Note:**

> this literally does not make any sense but i researched dead bodies for this so im posting it. its not good research because i dont feel like looking at pictures but still.
> 
> also if you couldnt tell my jason is stubborn and self doubt-y and doesn't think anyone cares about him even though that is wrooooonnnngg~~


End file.
